


Lost in a Forest of Green

by exhaustedxreader



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Bad Poetry, Eye Color, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Inspired by Poetry, Kissing, Pining Derek, Poetry, Swearing, Young Derek Hale, idk why but my dad keeps calling derek kevin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:14:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24603745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exhaustedxreader/pseuds/exhaustedxreader
Summary: As a nervous kid, writing poetry for class was difficult. Having to read them in front of said class was even harder. After meeting a boy with parakeet and fern green eyes, your life seemed to change, and so did your poems.
Relationships: Derek Hale & Original Character(s), Derek Hale/Original Character(s), Derek Hale/Original Female Character(s), Derek Hale/Reader, Derek Hale/You, Derek/Reader, Derek/You
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	1. The Town Without Me

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings!
> 
> *Slight swearing  
> *Implied child abuse  
> *Implied anxiety  
> *Referenced anxiety attack

Your homework over the weekend had been to write a poem. Since you weren’t a very good writer - actually, you weren’t very good at anything - you decided you’d just try scribble something down and deal with the consequences later.

What you didn’t realise, was that you had to stand up in front of the class and read the poem aloud. 

You cursed under your breath, watching as another kid finished their poem.  
“Allison, your turn!” the teacher called.

You barely heard what she said through the sound of your heart thundering in your ears. It was something about love and loss, something you guessed she had experienced a lot of recently. 

Once Allison was finished, a round of applause sounded and the teacher trailed her finger down the list of names in front of her. “Hmmm...Ah! [Y/N]!” 

All eyes flickered to you. Hesitantly, you crawled out from your chair and walked to the front of the room on wobbly legs that threatened to buckle. Your stomach turned, feeling like you were about to throw up all over the front row. What a poor bunch.

“When you’re ready, Miss [L/N],” the teacher encouraged. 

Taking a deep breath, you looked down at the paper you’d scribbled on, and read just loud enough for everyone to hear. 

_“When I get bigger, big enough to go somewhere by myself,  
I want to go a land that’s faraway,  
I want to go a faraway island,  
I want to go to an island that has no people,  
I want to go to an island that has no pain or sadness,  
There are no adults, children, classmates, teacher or my mom on that island,  
On that island I can climb a tree when I want to climb,  
Swim in the sea when I when I want to swim,   
And sleep when I want to sleep,  
On the island I think about the town that I left behind,   
Kids go to school as if nothing has changed,  
Adults go to the office as if nothing has changed,   
Mom eats as if nothing has changed,  
When I think about the town without me, I feel sense of relief,   
I want to go far, far away.” _

When you finished, no one clapped. Everyone sat in a tense silence, staring you over.  
“Um...Very nice work, [Y/N],” the teacher tried, looking up at your from behind her square glasses. 

You just knew you’d earned yourself a trip to the councillor.

=

You went home early that day because of an anxiety attack. To say your mother wasn’t happy was an understatement. 

Your teacher sent out a message to the class that night, saying to write another poem for homework. A 10-years time poem. You’d scoffed, thinking that you’d already done that yesterday, but didn’t bother to say anything to the teacher. Instead, you scribbled out another shitty poem and went to sleep.


	2. 10-Years Poem

“[Y/N], your turn,” the teacher beckoned from the front of the room.

Dragging your book to the front of the class, you silently vowed that this would be the last poem you ever wrote. Deep down, you knew that was a lie.

_“In ten years’ time, I want to live in a house with big windows, I want the house to be large enough to have a kitchen table with four chairs but not too roomy to ever feel the depth of my aloneness. Because I’ll probably be alone. But I think aloneness won’t feel so all-consuming with windows that protect me from the world but still let me watch it.”_

You didn’t bother to wait for the teacher to tell you to sit down before throwing yourself into your chair, everyone’s eyes still burning holes into you. 

No one clapped. No one spoke until the next reader stood. 

This was going to be a long year, you thought. 

=

“Hey!” 

You craned your neck behind you, seeing a somewhat familiar face, though you couldn’t place where you’d seen it before. “Hi?” 

“I heard your poem today...and yesterday. I thought they were pretty good,” the boy said, smiling at you. 

“Thanks, I guess,” you muttered, picking anxiously at your chipped nails.

“My names Derek.” He extended his hand until it brushed your shaking one. 

“[Y/N],” you responded, placing your slightly clammy hand into his firm one. He gave it a soft shake before he let it go.

“Do you write often?”

“No.”

“Do you like writing?”

“No.”

“Why’re you in extension English, then?” Derek asked, confusion written plainly over his face.

“Because it’s an easy subject,” you said meekly. 

“Fair enough,” he said, deeming it a reasonable answer. “Do you play any sports?”

“No.”

“Do you want to?”

“No.”

“I play sport.” He smiled, walking side-by-side with you toward the exit to the school. 

“Lacrosse?” you asked, giving him a side-ways glance.

“Basketball,” he corrected, a flicker shining in his eyes. 

You hadn’t realised it before, but he had the most beautiful eyes.   
It was a soft, watery green. Like the colour of grass when the sun hit it at the perfect time of the day, when the dew sparkled, green reflecting off.

“It’s olive,” he informed, noticing your eyes lingering on his. 

“Really? I would’ve said a mix between parakeet and fern,” you mused, cheeks flushing to a scarlet. 

“You really are an English student,” he teased.

“And you’re a pain in the ass,” you joked, shoving him softly. 

He winked. “The one and only!”

Your lips cracked into a smile that was quick to disappear after you saw your mothers’ car impatiently waiting. 

“I’ll see you around, Derek,” you rushed, hurrying down to your mothers beaten-up car. 

“See you, [Y/N]!” he called over the roars of traffic. 

His eyes connected with yours as your mother sped away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Make sure to check out my other words and let me know what you thought in the comments. I also take requests!
> 
> Thanks again!  
> ~~~


	3. Lost in a Forest of Green

In English today, Derek sat next to you. He didn’t speak to you, only gave you a thumbs-up when the teacher called on you. 

The class went silent as it was your turn to speak, raising eyebrows, wondering how strange this poem was going to be. Stalking to the front of the class, you didn’t look anywhere but Derek, staring into his parakeet and fern eyes. 

_“I don’t think I could  
Ever understand how  
Someone could get lost in a  
Forest, until I saw your  
Eyes. Because in your eyes, I  
Saw the colour of the leaves,  
The very hue of life. _

_In your eyes, I saw a speck of the  
Sun beaming in the sky, and in  
Your eyes, I learned how  
It was possible to get so very  
**Lost in a forest of green.”** _

The class erupted into a sea of claps, the teacher even shedding a tear. You offered a small smile to Derek who grinned back widely. 

=

“I’ve never had someone write a poem about me, but that was the best one yet,” Derek told you, chuckling loudly down the hallway. 

You groaned, burying your face into your hands. Finally uncovering your face, you had a sudden realisation. “You never read your poems.”

“I didn’t write them,” he told you. “I don’t have time.”

“You don’t have time to write down even one line of poetry?” you asked, disbelief coating your words.

“Nope! I’ve got a very...supernatural life,” he said, winking at you. 

You giggled softly, your smile widening as your felt his fingers lace themselves with your own.  
“I can do supernatural,” you said, turning to him. 

He gently pushed you against his locker, his lips mere centimetres away, his warm breath heating your face even further.  
“Prove it,” he dared.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you felt a heavy weight being pulled from your chest. Like something you’d been looking for your whole life had finally been found. 

And you pressed your lips against his.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Make sure to check out my other words and let me know your thoughts in the comments. I’m also open to requests. 
> 
> Thanks again!
> 
> ~~~


End file.
